


Into The Maze X2

by AriadneHarlowJuniper



Series: Crossing Time [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asexual, Asexual Character, Asexual Newt, Asexuality, Best Friends, Canon, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Coming Out, Confessions, Consent, Could Be Canon, Cute, Death, Depressed Newt, Depressed Thomas, Depression, Deviates From Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, F/F, F/M, Feels, First Kiss, Firsts, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, Heterosexual Minho, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I Hate Teresa, I'm Sorry, Kissing, LGBTQ Themes, Language, Lesbian, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Pansexual Gally, Pining, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad Newt, Sad Newt (Maze Runner), Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Spoilers, Suicidal Newt, Suicide, Teresa Bashing, The Maze - Freeform, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Trauma, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Violence, back in time, gay Ben, newtmas - Freeform, newtmas fluff, thomesa, trenda - Freeform, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneHarlowJuniper/pseuds/AriadneHarlowJuniper
Summary: https://ariadnejuniper.tumblr.comhttps://www.wattpad.com/user/Ariadne_Juniperhttps://www.youtube.com/channelUCCSGZgkrubz74E2_ArDltSghttps://www.instagram.com/ariadnejuniper/Life felt like death. By all means, he was alive, but without Newt beside him, he was dead inside. What was life without him?When violently thrust back in time to the Glade, Thomas realises three things. One: Everyone was alive. Two: He was going to save them, save them all. Three: Newt looked good. Like, really good.But he didn't like Newt. Not like, like. definitely not, like, like...Thomas is engaged in a race against time, fighting to keep them, and himself alive. And fighting for his love.Harbouring a crush (it's just a crush, totally) is a little difficult while fighting off what feels like the entire universe.Okay, really difficult.
Relationships: Brenda/Gally (Maze Runner), Brenda/Thomas, Can't give away the other relationship dammit, Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), Sonya/Harriet, Teresa/Thomas, newtmas, unfortunately - Relationship
Series: Crossing Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899706
Comments: 17
Kudos: 102





	1. Into The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have the bits from the movie - yes, this is from the movie - exactly correct, I'll tweak a bit, but I'll stay as on track as I can.  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> Please kudos, and review,  
> (Reviews are a drug to writers)  
> And have a good day,  
> anaauthor

Thomas walked out from under the awning and into the storm.

  
He did every night. He never could sleep, not with Newt's screams in his ear and the - god - nightmares. So he went out to a small cliff overlooking the bay.

  
He sat on it, legs hanging over. He didn't dare take out Newt's note - he couldn't, it would get wet no matter how he shielded it, and he couldn't risk that. So he comforted himself, fingers in his pocket feeling the crumpled paper. He wondered how Newt had gotten a hold of it - it wasn't like it was lying around. Did he ask Gally for some? Did Gally not guess what it was for? He felt anger at ally again then the thin structure of rage he had felt collapsed and he felt defeated. Every time he had tried to build up an emotion that wasn't sadness and regret it wen't like that. He supposed he was happy for the small flash of something he had felt.

  
He could still feel it, his hands still grasping the knife Newt had impaled himself on...

  
And Brenda was right there, standing there, cure in hand.  
Even more so, the cure was in his blood!  
But Teresa - Teresa knew that.  
It was all her fault.

If she had not betrayed them, they would be in the Safe haven, Newt alive and uninfected. If she hadn't held them up with her stupid speech, maybe Brenda would have run there faster. Why hadn't he pushed her off the cliff when she revealed her betrayal? And did she have her memories from the beginning or was she as clueless as they were?

The rain stung at the cuts on Thomas's face.

He didn't draw his hood.

He deserved to suffer.

What would he change if he were to go back?

Newt said we didn't want to change anything, Thomas pondered.

But Thomas knew.

Now he knew.

He would change everything.

Then a flash of light surrounded him.

***

He was tied down to a bed.

That was the first thing he noticed.

He felt floaty, like a spirit. Like he wasn’t real. He strained on the binds, trying to feel himself – he felt strangely empty. He, in short, felt like he didn’t exist.

  
The room was white. Completely white, and looking down, he could see that the bedsheets were too. he felt a jolt of panic. Was it WICKED? And then, someone appeared.

  
The shadowy appeared and started pacing around the room, steps heavy and slow. There were too someones - a figure dressed in white, face as hidden as the other one's stayed still and addressed him.

  
"Hello, Thomas."

It was a female voice.

Thomas didn't answer her. She had kidnapped him; presumably brought him to WICKED - he didn't owe her anything at all.  
He could almost feel her smile – no. That was too humane for WICKED. He could feel her smirk.

  
“My name is Fate.” She continued, quietly, tugging the black figure beside her where he finally stood, hands clasped into each other. “And this is Death.”  
Thomas resisted the almost overwhelming urge to snort. But no. he couldn’t find this funny – he wasn’t allowed to be happy anymore. He had killed Newt.  
He heard Fate whisper to Death – he was sure she meant for him to hear it. “We have to right this, Death. This boy has been severely wronged.”  
This boy has been severely wronged.

  
When was the last time someone acknowledged it? Thomas wondered.  
He could hear Death’s reply, stoic and boring toned, but he listened all the same. “I would say so too. We will right this wrong. I do not bow to such failure.”  
All in all, Thomas preferred Death. At least he was sure he was honest – and he wanted to be taken from Earth by Death. He should have died, not Newt.  
He wondered when he was going to wake up from this dream Or was it a hallucination? Or was this life after death? Being pestered by people?  
He heard Fate gasp. “Don’t think such a thing!”

  
How do you know what I’m thinking? Thomas wanted to ask. He didn’t, though. He wasn’t going to answer to them. Not them, probably WICKED playing a mind game on him. No. He wondered if they were going to kill him. At least he would see Newt again. And Chuck. And god forbid Teresa.

  
He also wondered how Minho would feel if he died. He was surprisingly uncaring of whether he lived or died. He also wondered about how Minho didn’t hate him. In fact, the only one he was surprised that they were still amiable was Gally. Gally had killed Chuck, whether he wanted to or not. He probably didn’t mind that Thomas was a murdered and deserved to die.  
He wished Gally had killed him, not Chuck. At least then, Newt and Chuck would survive.

  
He thought of Newt. He thought of Newt’s floppy blonde hair, falling over his pooling chocolate eyes filled with – Thomas hoped – was adoration. He was beautiful, Thomas decided, and almost impossibly, even more beautiful on the inside. He was kind, caring, strong, a leader, beautiful – there was no positive word you could not put to Newt. Newt kept everyone going. There were times when Minho refused to listen to anybody, back there, and Newt could calm him down. It had been cruel for Newt to die just as Brenda arrived. It was a crude twist of fate, one that sent Thomas’ hand shattering into a billion pieces. Because Newt was what kept Thomas going. The knowledge that at the end of the day, Newt was safe.  
Until he wasn’t.

  
Death flourished a silver and black staff and clasped it in his hands. “We have decided to send you back. What happened was atrocious, and will always be. But we have decided to right this wrong. You will go back to the maze. But this time, you will know what will happen. And you can save them. You will go in a week.”  
And before he faded out, he heard Fate say.  
“You can save them all.”


	2. Run, Boy, Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days passed by.  
> Then It happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Next chapter is Thomas being introduced to the maze and seeing *gasp*   
> *drumroll*  
> Neeeeeeeeeeeweweweweweeweweweweewewewewewewewewewewewewet.  
> Love him so much..  
> So, hope you enjoy, hope you kudos, hope you review,  
> anaauthor

Thomas forgot about the encounter.  
No, he hadn’t. He may have liked to, but he hadn’t. He awoke again, on the cliff, and brushing it off as a hallucination – he must really be going loopy – he went back to bed, only to wake, screaming. And he shook his head at Minho who had climbed halfway out of his bed to help him, and refrained from going outside in the fear of another hallucination. So he sat at the edge, rocking a little, toes just touching the ground. He was shivering, but he shrugged off all offers of a jacket. He would suffer, because Newt had suffered. And Newt was infinitely better than him. His nails dug into his palm as he reflected back into the dream – Newt’s face, agonised in pain, contorted in hate. He didn’t blame Newt for hating him. He was shaking – not because of the cold, as one might think – but because of that.  
He saw Newt every night. And he never would stop. Newt was a beacon of light, but Thomas had shattered the bulb. And it fizzled out, leaving him in darkness.  
Thomas edged the tip of his shoes out of the canopy. Gradually, his shoes became soaked but all he could do was stare. He woke the next morning curled up by the edge, sleeping in an uncomfortable position.  
But it didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve to sleep well.

Thomas awoke before everybody else. He had got four hours of sleep – lucky, he mused, he usually only got two – and he felt half dead. But it was a good day. Normally he felt three quarters dead. And he looked it, too.  
“You look happy today.” Minho noted. Thomas turned to see him sat up on the bed with a tremendous case of bedhead, his black hair sticking up in clumps. He also looked like he had not slept, if the eye bags were anything to go by.  
Thomas smiled. “I am happy.” And he realised it was true. He was the happiest he had been since they had arrived in the Safe Haven. Even though he was sure that encounter with Fate and Death was entirely made-up, it promised something he desperately wanted.  
A chance to go back.  
To change things. It had a cloying sweetness to it. He knew it could never happen. But he still lusted after it. It held a window of opportunity he wanted - he wanted it so much. He knew he wasn’t going to get the chance to go back – that kind of stuff didn’t exist in real life. Still, it was a possibility he was going to entertain until the week passed and nothing happened.  
Minho smiled – it was a real smile, nothing like the grimaces paired with sarcastic comments from before. “I’m glad, Thomas. You deserve to be happy.”  
You deserve to be happy.  
Thomas could remember the words, written on Newt’s note with careful cursive. He resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in pain and instead said. “Right, enough sappiness for one day. Get up, Minho.” Thomas flourished his hands with a grin. “The day is waiting.”  
Minho groaned, swinging his legs out of bed. “I’m up, man. Didn’t know you were such a stickler for waking up early.”  
“Time to start a fresh slate.” Thomas decided. Then, he added with a, dare I say, wicked smirk. “And it’s pay back for you waking me up in the maze at three am.”  
“It was six.” Minho retorted, quickly changing shirt. “It’s not that bad, you big baby.”  
“Oh yeah it is.” Thomas said devilishly, changing too, brushing a hand through his brown hair. “It was the ultimate death. I had to get you back.”  
Minho sighed, and said sarcastically. “And there’s Thomas, the funniest shank to ever be.”  
Thomas smirked again, heading out. “Don’t I know it.”  
“Don’t leave me!” Minho screeched, brushing off Thomas’ comment and running after him.  
Then they engaged in an epic race where Thomas just beat Minho even though Minho swore he had been faster, never mind Harriet standing there as witness to testify for Thomas.  
But Thomas kept the encounter with Fate and Death in his mind.  
And the days went by.

Day One.  
Thomas hung out with Minho for the best part of the day before reading over Newt’s note, crying, and going to bed.  
Day Two.  
He worked with Gally up in trees. Thomas didn’t know Gally could climb. He read Newt’s note and cried some more before going to bed.  
Day Three. He went through some fighting moves with Harriet and Vince. Read Newt’s note. Cried. Bed.  
Day Four.  
Ran with Minho, exploring the island. Went swimming. Retrieved Newt’s note from the hiding spot. Read it. Cried.  
Day Five.  
He relaxed. He was allowed to sleep as he had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before and spent the day stuck in a nightmare – in a limbo between sleep and a nightmare – reading Newt’s note, crying and finally, sleeping.  
Day Six.  
He tried hunting. Didn’t like it. Reminded him of the Gladers and the Grievers. The mechanical monsters, blubber and machinery, a mess of legs and teeth, blinking red lights…he cried just thinking about that but he didn’t read Newt’s note. He just felt it, for reassurance. Sleep.  
Day Seven.  
Thomas woke early. His tired brown eyes, the life long since drained out of them were too serious. Had seen too much. He didn’t bother even trying to tame his hair – even with the lack of sleep, it still got messed up – and just left, quietly, sitting on the cliff right by where he had first met Fate and Death. He wondered if anything was going to happen. Then he felt stupid due to thinking something was going to happen. Still, he stayed. And when he was just about to up and leave, something actually did happen.  
For some reason, he felt he should stay.  
And he did.  
Then, there was the bright flash of light and Thomas faded away…from everything.


	3. The Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He came to in the Box.  
> How did that happen?  
> He didn't know.
> 
> All he could do was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh. Three chappies in one day, folks. Hope you enjoy. Please kudos, review...your choice,  
> Have a good day!  
> anaauthor

Thomas came to in the Box. It was whirring, clanking, making a racket and he winced, drawing his hands over his ears as metal screeched and screamed, rubbing against other coils and screws. This was alright. This was only another nightmare…and then he would get up and kill Newt again.  
But it couldn’t be. It was too vivid, too clear. Even now, in the deep treacherous dark, it was too real. Was what Fate and Death said real?  
Except this time, he wasn’t sick. Yes, he was sweaty, collar sticking to him uncomfortably. But he wasn’t sick through the bars of the box.  
He gripped the side of the box with his fingers and looked out. It was the same. Completely black, the loud noises overwhelming.  
Last time it had taken half an hour to get up.  
Good. More time to plan.  
He had no idea who would remember. Probably only him.  
But he could-  
He could save them all. Newt, Chuck, Alby, Winston…and so many more. He could stop Teresa’s betrayal.  
But he would have to do so in secret. Alby would never believe him-  
He could stop Alby from being stung!  
But Ben…  
He would have to keep Ben out of the maze.  
It would do no good to draw unnecessary attention to himself. He would already have enough, Teresa coming right after him.  
That just made him resent Teresa more.   
If he couldn’t keep Ben out of the maze, he had to stop himself from being attacked. Then, keep Ben in the Pit until the Grief Serum came up.  
Yes. He had some formation of a plan, no matter how weak it was.  
If it wasn’t real…?  
It had to be. He didn’t remember all the little details. But he did now, seeing it all. In all his dreams, the fear had not been so real, he hadn’t seen anything so clearly. It had all been a blur until he had seen Newt – god, Newt – and he would kill him, again.  
Newt would be there. He knew it, Thomas could see him there, looking like a god.  
In those short moments in the Box, Thomas pondered about his love life.  
Yes, he had the short kiss with Brenda but he had been drugged. There was no consent in the matter. And Teresa had taken advantage of him as he lay dying.  
Was he gay?  
No. Thomas decided. He definitely was still attracted to girls. But he remembered recognising the tightness of the shirt on Minho’s muscles, and how beautiful Newt was, eyes, the eyelashes, the soft blonde hair he wanted to run his hands through…  
Was he, Thomas, in love with Newt?  
Thomas dismissed the idea as soon as it came. He wasn’t in love with his best mate…right?  
Right?  
Anyway, Thomas thought, it wasn’t exactly the time. He had to figure out how exactly not to piss anyone off, for he was way too good at it.  
He made a quick list of people he had pissed off.  
-Alby  
-Gally  
-Half the Gladers  
Whoops, was all Thomas thought. He would just have to lay low until he had to run out into the maze – or could be avoid that? No. Butterfly effect. Change the minimum amount of things. The only negative thing that happened was how traumatised he had been, but he already had those horrifying memories ingrained in his mind…and they weren’t going anywhere.  
Anyways, they were nothing compared to just about anything else that had happened.  
Thomas looked up in alarm.  
The doors were sliding open.  
And then he heard the talking.  
But he saw…oh he saw the faces of all of the dead, Alby peering down at him, Gally glaring – but as soon as Gally had seen him something had flickered across the face. But it was quickly replaced by the same expression as before.  
The same happened with Minho and Frypan.  
And there – Newt. The same thing happened, but he didn’t care about that. He cared that Newt was standing there, alive.  
Someone tossed a rope down. Thomas grabbed onto it, calloused hands gripping tight before the rope was tugged up, carrying Thomas as a passenger. And then he was thrown onto the ground and got a mouthful of dirt and he stared at everyone, and following a script, he stood up and ran.  
Except this time he didn’t trip. He kept on running. It felt good, to work his legs, but it was overwhelmed by the nightmarish situation. Or dreamy; it was a good situation. To save them all.  
He didn’t stop running. He remembered the advice he had gotten ‘Never stop running’. That much was true. To stop was to die, and he had too much – as Newt would say – to bloody live for.  
But he had to trip.  
He didn’t want to face the embarrassment of it, so as soon as he reached the Maze Doors – towering, stony, the ivy draped across the walls – he stopped, pretending to look in shock. Instead, he was actually looking for a Beetle Blade – there! There was the small clump of metal machinery and a blinking red light. Thomas stared at it, before it scuttled away. Then they caught up to him.  
They forced his arms behind his back – like he would run, he wasn’t a moron – and tied them with a thick rope. All the time, he kept up a steady stream of questions and shouts before they finally got sick of it. He was looking at Newt who was looking at him with a queer expression – a mix of pride and, was that, affection, and something else he couldn’t identify – when they knocked him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks! Another chapter! You guessed it. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. Please click the kudos and even *gasp* leave a review! Next chapter is probably going to be the tour - my mind is unpredictable. Trust me. even I can't see what's coming.  
> Hope you enjoyed,  
> anaauthor


	4. The Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Line: He came to in the Pit.
> 
> Last Line: Where you been, man?" Chuck yelled up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Fourth Chapter. I wanted to post it last night, but my WiFi cut off - I'm in tiny village in the middle of nowhere - so I couldn't. I have the ext one-and-a-half written out so there's that. Hope you enjoy,  
> anaauthor

He came to in the Pit.  
Of course, he mentally groaned. Of course he would be there.  
He blinked blearily, taking in the Pit. It was exactly the same – creaky chair in the corner, muddy walls, stony floor, covered in dirt and dust alike. Thomas felt the bars – wood. He could probably break through, but he was trying not to piss them off. And breaking out of their jail would probably fall into the classification of ‘piss them off’.  
Alby’s face, half-shadowed, came into view and momentarily blotted out the sun. Out of instinct, Thomas threw himself back, fingers grasping for something.  
“Hey, Greenbean.” Alby said, gently, dark skin even darker due to the lack of light. “You’re not going to run again, okay?”  
Thomas didn’t say anything. He didn’t remember saying anything, although his – out-of-breath-ness – probably fit in with his profile. Really, he was just out of breath at seeing apparently dead people alive.  
“Good.” Alby said. “My name is Alby.”  
Thomas nodded – he already knew that, and anyways he had a good memory. A good grasp on things like names.  
“Can you tell me anything about yourself?” Alby continued. “Who you are? Where you came from? Anything at all.”  
Thomas knew there was only one answer he could give and he said it quietly, subdued. It came out softly, like a whisper. The one word.  
“No.”  
“Can you tell me your name?” Alby said, carrying on with the gentle reproach.  
Thomas made sure to hesitate a lot. “I, uh, I can’t remember anything.” He said, not quite faking the panic. “Why can’t I remember anything?”  
Alby held out a hand to try and soothe him. “It’s okay. Hey, relax. Relax. It’s normal. You’ll get your name back in a day or two. It’s the one thing they let us keep.”  
Thomas asked the question.  
“What is this place?”  
And Alby said, with something akin to pride.  
“Let me show you.”

“We eat here.” Alby said, gesturing to the mill of Gladers, Homestead, and the Deadheads. “We sleep here.” He pointed to the spot outside of Homestead filled with hammocks. “We grow our own food.” Alby waved a hand in the direction of the Gardens. The whole time, Thomas was craning his neck, trying to spot Newt, with failure.  
“We build our own shelter. Whatever we need, the Box provides. The rest is up to us.”  
“The Box?” Thomas questioned, looking over to the elevator dug into the ground.  
“Yeah.” Alby said. “It’s sent up once a month with fresh supplies and a new Greenie. This month, that’s you.” Alby clapped him on the back. “Congratulations.”  
It was so bizarre. Everything was recited word for word, just as he remembered, like a badly written play.  
So Thomas said his line.  
“Sent up? By who though? Who put us here?”  
Alby said grimly.  
“That, we don’t know.”  
“Hey, are you alright Alby?”  
God, Newt.  
If it was possible, he looked even better today. His blonde hair tossed over his soft eyes and he looked happier – happier than Thomas had ever seen him, expecting the times they were the two of them, alone.  
Thomas internally shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was not going to think of his best friend that way – who, mind you, wasn’t even his best friend yet. If he would be at all – although, if it all went to plan, he would be.  
“Greenbean, meet Newt.” Alby introduced, beckoning Newt. “When I’m not around, he’s in charge.”  
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re always around then.” Thomas could sigh in relief at the sound of his voice. The accent, awkward limp…all of it.   
“That was some dash you made earlier.” Newt said. They shook hands, and Thomas relished at the feeling of holding Newt’s hand after so long…it had been so long. “For a second, I thought you had the chops to be a runner…until you stopped.”  
Newt let go and Thomas almost sighed in sadness at it. Being in contact with Newt was the best thing he had ever experienced…and he had not experienced it in so long.  
“Wait, a ‘runner?” Thomas had to ask. Still, the name was pretty self-explanatory.  
Alby leaned over and said to Newt. “Newt, do me a favour. Go find Chuck.”  
“All right.” Newt said, before smiling and Thomas, turning and leaving.  
“Thanks.” Alby said, before turning Thomas away from Newt, but he couldn’t help a final glance at Newt’s retreating form. “Look, I’m sorry to rush this. You came up a little late, and there’s a lot to do. We got something special planned tonight.” Alby smiled. “Yeah. You’ll see.”  
Alby led him away and to the tall laddered structure they had climbed the last time – and they would do it again.  
“I hope you’re not afraid of heights!” Alby called from the top, and Thomas hastened to follow him. “Let’s go. Come on.”  
Then Alby launched into his speech.  
“This is all we got. We’ve worked hard for it. If you respect this place…you and I will get along just fine.”  
Thomas leaned against the wooden railing and asked. “What’s out there?”  
Alby ignored his question. “We only have three rules. First, do you part. No time for any freeloaders. Second, never harm another Glader. None of this works unless we have trust. Most importantly…never go beyond those walls.” Alby looked at him. “Do you understand me, Greenie?”  
I break all of those rules, Thomas thought. But he still nodded.  
Then he say Chuck.  
Chuck. The chubby boy. The chubby boy he lived as a brother.  
Thomas let nothing show. It wouldn’t do if they figured him out on the First Day. But he still felt the pain he felt when Gally shot Chuck, the bloody bullet hole appearing in Chuck’s chest. And barkey being able to let go of his grip and Newt had to physically pull him off Chuck to get him to leave.  
“Hey, Alby!”  
“Hey, Chuck.”  
“Where you been, man?” Chuck yelled up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Phew. I hope you enjoyed - Newt Chapter is titled 'Welcome To The Glade'  
> Hope you enjoy, kudos, review,  
> anaauthor


	5. Welcome To The Glade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Line: "It's basically the same story for all of us."
> 
> Last Line: "Gally's recipe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fifth chapter! :o Hope you enjoy. Next Chpater is titled...  
> *drumroll*  
> Gally's Recipe!  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> anaauthor

“It’s basically the same story for all of us. We wake up in the Box, Alby gives us the tour…then here we are. Don’t worry.” Chuck said, tightening the hammock rope, shudder in his voice. “You’re already doing better than I did. I klunked my pants three times before they got me out of the Pit.”  
Thomas was still staring at the Maze Doors. Then, making sure no one was looking at him except for Chuck, he started walking towards them.  
He could hear Chuck’s pants as he hurried after him probably going as fast as he could on his plump legs. “No, come on. Dude, where are you going?”  
“I just wanna see.” Thomas said, feeling bad about brushing Chuck off but had steeled himself to do so anyways.  
“You can look around all you want but you better not go out there.” Chuck warned, half his body in front of Thomas’ body.  
Thomas steeled himself. “Why not? What’s through there?”  
“I don’t know.” Chuck said pleadingly, patting down his sweaty and dirty clothes. “I just know what I’m told.”  
Thomas saw Minho and Ben jog out of the Maze. Had Ben been stung yet? No. Probably not.  
“Hey, Chucky-Boy.” Minho said, running. “New Greenie, huh?”  
“How does it feel to be promoted?”   
“Feels great, Ben.” Chuck grinned, waving a lazy two fingers.  
Chucky-Boy. Wasn’t it just Chuck last time?  
Thomas rounded on Chuck. “I thought no one was allowed to leave.”  
Chuck shook his head, exasperated. “I said we’re not allowed to leave. They’re different, they’re runners. They know more about the Maze than anyone.”  
Thomas did his best to seem surprised by the incoming flow of information. He was hearing “Wait, what?”  
“What?” Chuck said, not quite comprehending it.   
“You just said ‘Maze’.”  
“I did?” Chuck said, attempting to bluff his way out of it. Too bad, Chuck, Thomas thought. I know you too well. He was too nervous for it to be pulled off as a truth, anyways.  
“Yeah.”  
Thomas began to head off towards the Maze again.  
Chuck ran after him. “Where are you going? What are you doing?”  
“I’m just gonna take a look.” Thomas said, shying away.  
“I told you, you can’t.” Chuck said, facepalming. That was new. He was already changing things. “No one leaves, especially not now. It’s not safe.”  
“Okay, all right.” Thomas reluctantly (or not so reluctantly) agreed.  
Then he felt a sharp pain in his chest and he was thrown unceremoniously onto the ground.  
Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
Gally.

“Hey!”  
Thomas did a double-take – was that – regret? – in Gally’s eyes?  
Gally stood over him. “We gotta stop meeting like this, Greenie.”  
“Get off me!’ Thomas yelled, wriggling up and standing  
“Calm, calm, calm.” Gally said, trying to grasp ahold of the situation.  
Thomas fired his anger at WICKED into the words.  
“Don’t touch me!’  
“Woah, take it easy!”  
“Just relax.”  
“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” Thomas hissed both in anger and fear.  
“Just calm down, alright?” Alby mysteriously appeared like he always did, ready to try and subdue the situation at hand  
“No, okay?” Thomas said, faking desperateness. “Why won’t you tell me what’s out there?”  
He was quick to say. “We’re just trying to protect you. It’s for your own good.”  
“You guys just can’t keep me here!’ Thomas yelled, wrenching himself free of the tight grip.  
“I can’t let you leave.” Alby said, his calm showing cracks.  
“Why not?” Thomas said defiantly, rounding on them as they surrounded him like a pack of dogs.  
Then it happened.  
The Doors started moving. They growled and shifted, roaring and rumbling as they finally eased themselves shut, slamming together with a loud bang.  
“What the hell?” Thomas barely whispered the words, mouth tracing them. He could only stare in shock and wonder. It had been so long since he had seen the Doors and he was quite amazed by the genius of it all. He’d only seen them close about seven times – in fact, he hadn’t even been there for most of them. Running the Maze at night...  
“Next time, I’m gonna let you leave.” Gally spat venomously. But was it just him, or did he hear the hint of an apology in the words? The hint of a ‘sorry’ that went unspoken?  
Alby moved closer to him and said the words he would forever remember. The words he would never forget, no matter what WICKED could try to do.  
“Welcome to the Glade.”

Thomas was sitting beside Newt. Their knees were touching – he hoped it was dark enough that Newt wouldn’t see the pink flush that must have been on his face at the feeling of Newt’s warm skin on his. Newt turned his face to him, the flames flickering across it, illuminating the brown eyes.  
“Hell of a first day, Greenie.” He grabbed the amber liquid he knew was Gally’s recipe. “Here.”  
Thomas grabbed it, waiting for the next line – put some hair on your chest - but it never came.  
Huh. So he wasn’t the only one changing stuff today.  
He sipped it. It was as revolting as before and he gagged but swallowed it. It burnt at his throat like a fire trying to break free of the confines and tears came to his eyes. Apparently, the stuff was made stronger in the Glade because in the Safe Haven, he could drink it without feeling like he was going to die. Or, feeling like he was dying. He waited until the burning sensation faded away.  
Newt chuckled at the look of disgust on his face.   
“What is that?” Thomas asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
“Trade secret.” They both turned in sync to go look over to Gally. Thomas already knew where he would be – with his little gang of boys. Teresa would come soon. He needed to prepare for that. It wouldn’t do to be completely unprepared. He would have to interrogate her, and try to persuade her WICKED was bad. An organisation that needs to say ‘I Am Good’ is probably not good. He didn’t care if she agreed – only if she wouldn’t betray them.  
Then Newt, in all his godly beauty said.  
“Gally’s recipe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to copy all the text out by hand - or keyboard. Worst thing ever. Anyways, hope you enjoy, review, kudos,  
> anaauthor


	6. What if I Want To Be A Runner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I didn't have wifi for a biot and my keyboard was messing around so this took three times the amount of time it was supposed to...so what's up? I'm gonna start diverting from the exact words...totally not because I'm bored of writing it out...  
> Yeah...  
> Anyways, actually plot coming soon!  
> anaauthor

Newt turned back. “It’s a trade secret.”  
Thomas nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor, nails digging into his thighs hoping Newt wouldn’t notice. “Yeah, well, he’s still an asshole.”  
That was one of the few time he had sworn. Of course, he only ever really felt comfortable enough to swear with Newt. It was during the six months before their attempt to rescue Minho they had gotten drunk and sworn at everything, bar each other. Soon enough, swearing only with - never at - each other became their thing. He had only heard Newt swear once barring when it was just the two of them. Shit, by the way. It was when Minho had kneed a WICKED soldier in the groin and he couldn’t deny the feelings of jealousy when Newt had looked at Minho with so much awe in his face and voice.  
Newt nodded, an understanding across his face but Thomas knew - still knew, after all that time - what the line would be.  
“He saved your life today.” Thomas almost sighed. The irony of it. Thomas would have survived anyways - he knew it - so all that had happened was Gally had a fun time shoving Thomas on the ground. That was probably what Gally dreamt about at night. Other than Brenda, of course. He wasn’t really sure how that had happened. It really started after the “This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? The same dick?”  
“I like her.”   
And it evolved into something. But there was also something else there too. Thomas knew that Gally had a romantic history with someone who had died…but just who it was, Thomas didn’t know.  
“The maze is a dangerous place.” Newt said and Thomas almost couldn’t stop the smirk that threatened to creep onto his face. He would know.  
Thomas felt like changing something up..something so insignificant no one would know. Not even he would know, if it weren’t that he memorised every single conversation he had with Newt.  
“We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” Stuck, not trapped. Thomas momentarily felt elated then ashamed of himself and how he felt happy at the changing of a word.  
Newt paused. “For the moment.”  
“But…”  
You see those guys? There, by the fire? Those are the runners. That guy in the middle there, that's Minho. He's the Keeper of the Runners. Every morning, when those doors open, they run the maze... mapping it, memorising it, trying to find a way out.” Thomas looked over to them. There was Minho, sleeves rolled up - typical, Thomas thought fondly - and the runners crowding around him. Minho’s black hair seems slightly singed in the fire light and it looked really good…where had that thought come from? He had better stop thinking…  
“How long have they been looking?” Thomas asked, looking back at Newt and Newt’s soft - beautiful - brown eyes traced his face.  
“Three years.” There it was. The shatter in Thomas’ heart whenever Newt looked upset.  
This time, Thomas didn’t say anything.  
The familiar rumbling of the maze started. The grumbling, the stones grinding by each other, whirring and clicking.   
“It’s the maze, changing.” Newt explained. “It changes every night.”  
“How is that even possible?” Thomas asked, still in disbelief after all that time.  
“You can ask the people that put us here, if you ever meet the bastards.” Newt said, resentment dripping from his voice. “Listen.” Newt said. “The truth is…the Runners are the only ones who really know what’s out there. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all, And it’s a good thing, too…because if they don’t make it back before those doors close…then they are stuck out there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the maze.”  
‘What happens to them?” Thomas asked, fiddling with his pants.  
Newt swallowed. “Well, we call them Grievers.”  
When he said that, a low haunting moan rose from the maze. He supposed they just already knew the name or called them Grievers due to the sounds of grief – the moans – they emitted.   
Newt continued speaking, rubbing a hand over his leg – the good one, Thomas didn’t think he could deal with the onslaught of memories that would come if he thought of it. When Newt had told him, on that wall…  
“Of course, no one’s ever seen one and lived to tell about it.” Newt swallowed again. “But they’re out there.”  
Thomas looked back down.  
“Right, that’s enough question for one night. Come on.”   
This time, Thomas didn’t turn him down – try to turn him down – but instead he nodded along, eager to spend some more time with Newt.  
Newt looked surprised. Did the Greenies usually refuse immediately? Or was it something else?  
Newt attempted to cover up the moment of puzzlement Thomas had seen Newt suffer with the comment. “You’re our guest of honour. I’ll show you around.”  
Newt’s face was illuminated by the fire, hair golden in the light and Newt looked even more godly in the fire than how he already did. Thomas snapped himself out of his ogling after Newt said. “And there we got the builders. They’re very good with their hands…but not a lot going on upstairs.” Newt said with a mischevious grin and tapped his forehead knowingly. “And then we got Winston…”  
A quick look at the boy’s face was all Thomas needed to remember. The screaming cranks, the scratch wound, his suicide…  
“-he’s the Kepeer of the Slicers.” Winston greeted them before leaving.  
“And we got two med-jacks, Clint and Jeff.”  
“Hey what’s up?”  
“Yo, Newt.”  
“They spend most of their time bandaging up the Slicers.” Newt said, running a hand through his hair again. Thomas, in four words, wanted to kiss him. Then he felt ashamed of himself for wanting to kiss him. It wasn’t his fault Newt was incredibly hot…and funny…and smart…and beautiful…and kind…and brave…and loyal…  
Why was he thinking like that about his not yet best friend?  
And he asked the legendary question ingrained in his mind since it was asked.  
“What if I want to be a Runner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, reviews and kudos are always appreciated - more than appreciated, actually.  
> anaauthor


	7. Have You Listened To A Word I've Just Said?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the same chapter, but I added a little more text. So, enjoy an extra thirty words, I guess.  
> anaauthor xx

Chapter Seven

Newt stared at him with deep disbelief. “Have you listened to a word I’ve just said? No one wants to be a runner.”  
The look on Newt’s face sent a deep pang clanging through Thomas, because Newt seemed to look at him like he was crazy…yet there was a flicker of something in Newt’s soft eyes…and it was concern. Not an accusation of lunacy. He'd had enough of people accusing him of craziness. There had already been Gally, everybody but a few in the Glade, and there was that time, when they were looking for the Right Arm that Newt had scoffed and laughed at his plan. That, excluding Newt's death _(don't think of that, don't think of that_ ) had hurt the most.

“And besides.” Newt said, shifting against him as he walked forward, Thomas striding beside him, and Thomas shivered and Newt moved against him. “you gotta get chosen.”  
This time, Thomas stayed silent. He knew how to get chosen. He could feel Newt’s soft gaze on him, like a golden warmth of light, honey rays from the sun, but he also felt the look examining him, looking him up and down. Undressing his secrets.

  
Thomas scuffed the ground. He hadn’t been knocked to the side yet. He was supposed to have been - after he said ‘chosen by who’. Was it a trigger?  
As he was thinking this, he could feel someone’s presence, the presence of the same boy that had knocked him in earlier last time looming up behind him. Thomas knew what would happen, and moved out of the way. It would be wise to avoid making an enemy out of Gally again.

  
When Thomas moved out of the way, Newt’s arm brushed against him, and it seemed less platonic than it had been the first time around. And he could feel his breath catch as Newt breathed on him, as he saw the curves of his lips, his glowing blonde hair and the fire reflecting off of Newt’s light brown eyes, glittering in the swimming depths of his dark eyes…  
 _Bam! It was as if it was that night again, that dreaded night where Thomas’ heart completely shattered. When his heart had been broken. The city was coming down around them, breaking and destroying, being torn apart. It was going up in flames, and rubble surrounded them. The area they were in was hot, the humid air from the fires swarming them. And Newt was there. But that wasn’t Newt. There were the black veins crawling up his arms, up his neck, and the fire glittered in his eyes like it just had…_

“Greenie?”

Thomas jolted awake, having been lost in that nightmare of a memory.

“Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.” Thomas surprisingly found that this was quite true. With Newt, he was always fine. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just zoned out for a second…” Thomas shook his head, dazed and distracted. “I’m sorry…I’m just overwhelmed.”

  
“It’s alright.” Newt said, grasping Thomas’ shoulder gently, and Thomas nearly gasped, because Newt was there, Newt was touching him, and…

“It happens to all of us.” Newt licked his lips, and was looking into Thomas’ eyes but Thomas noticed his eyes were flickering downwards each fraction of a second, to his…his…his lips?  
Why would Newt be looking at my lips? Thomas wondered. But he couldn’t help but blush under Newt’s stare and lifted his gaze from the ground to look at Newt. He suddenly became hyper aware of everything they were doing: Newt’s hands had moved further downwards, to his waist, and they were so close, pressed together, their lips mere inches apart. Thomas’ breath hitched as they both slightly leaned forward, before they both pulled away on instinct and sky breaths were released. Newt’s hand dropped and it left a burning feeling, like Thomas had been relighted. The moment had passed, and it had broken.

  
Thomas suddenly remembered that the fight with Gally had never happened, and that meant that his name had never been remembered…discovered.  
He was scared that Newt would think he had tried to kiss him…which he had, he wasn’t going to lie. But he would never do that if Newt hadn’t eaten him to, and he couldn’t help but cringe if Newt remembered him as the boy who had tried to kiss him on his first day in the Glade. He could play this off as something else…maybe…pretend to remember his name!

“Thomas. My name…” Thomas stared into Newt’s eyes. “My name is Thomas.”  
Newt looked at him for a second. And then, slapped his back, caressed…it had been a stroke, and said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. Welcome to the Glade.”

  
“Oh, and Tommy?” Newt said, and Thomas quickly met Newt’s eyes. “I’ll show you to your hammock. Alby’ll wake you up early tomorrow. Try not to wake anyone up.”  
Thomas nodded. Newt led him through the crowd of Gladers celebrating yet another month alive. He wondered when it had become so surprising to survive another month. He was no stranger to death; if you were lucky, you’d survive being in the same vicinity of Thomas for a week. The majority of the Gladers hadn’t made it past that.  
Newt stopped in front of a hammock. It wasn’t the same one as last time; this one was closer to the Homestead, and if Thomas was correct in remembering (the intricate details were fuzzy, and only the feelings of real fear were sharp and clear) closer to Newt’s sleeping spot.  
“This is where you’ll sleep.” Newt said, and gently tugged on Thomas’ arm. When had they started holding hands? “It’ll be your sleeping area for months, maybe even years. Get used to it. And get some sleep.”  
Newt looked at him.  
“You’ll need it.”


	8. Dark Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a full chapter (it's not even half) but I've been struggling with writing lately. This chapter doesn't exactly progress the story. I'll be posting part two in a few days, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a full chapter (it's not even half) but I've been struggling with writing lately. This chapter doesn't exactly progress the story. I'll be posting part two in a few days, though.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy four hundred words of nothing, lmao.  
> anaauthor xxx
> 
> PS: Is it possible to change usernames?

Alby woke him at dawn.

Thomas blinked blearily, emerging from the dark depths of nightmares he had found himself swimming in the whole night.

Light filtered in from the crimson sun. This time, Alby hadn’t woken him the same way.

He was glad. If Alby had, then Thomas would have most likely already attacked Alby out of fear. His reflexes were too quick, and this was WCKD’s fault.

Still. Nothing would be changed. The memories would never be gone.

He had lost them once, and hated it, but now it was almost a dream. Forgetting everything would be great. But that would mean forgetting everybody: all the dead, all the alive, and...Newt.

But there would be no dead this time around.

He was sure of it.

He had to save everyone. But if Teresa was hanging off of a cliff, he wouldn’t save her.

He would push WICKED off of the cliff, though.

A thousand times over.

Alby looked at him warily, keeping his fair distance. “Follow me.”

They walked for nearly ten minutes, Alby keeping a steady pace and Thomas lagging behind him.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” Alby asked, looking at him. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it wasn’t always this way. We had dark days.” Alby paused.

“We lost a lot of boys to fear. To panic.” He glanced at Thomas.

“We’ve come far since then. Established order…made peace.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Thomas asked.

He was sure his face unnerved Alby. It was too steady, too cold, too accustomed to this. It was the face of a man forever haunted by his ghosts.

“Because you’re not like the others.” Alby said. “You’re curious.”

 _You mean to tell me no one has ever been curious about this place before me? Everybody’s already used to it?_ Thomas thought.

“-but you’re one of us now.” Alby continued, bringing Thomas back into reality.

“You need to know what that means.”

Alby handed Thomas the sharp silver knife.

Thomas remembered the first time Alby had handed him that and how his thought had been that he would have to cut his skin as some sort of cult initiation ceremony.

It had been ridiculous, but so was the whole situation.

Alby pointed to the wall where names were etched on, scattered, the larger ones belonging to the more important members of the Glade. Thomas approached the wall.

“What happened to them?”

Alby inhaled, full of grief. “Like I said…dark days, Thomas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed xxx  
> anaauthor
> 
> PS: Thank you for 70 kudos!


	9. He Saved Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy! if anyone has a headcanon or something they want in a tmr fic just comment it and I'll see if I can incorporate t. just give me ideas XD  
> -anaauthor

_“Has anyone every tried climbing to the top?”_

_“Tried it. The ivy doesn’t go all the way to the top. And besides, where are you gonna go from there?”_

_“And what about the Box? You know, next_ _time it comes up…”_

_“No, we tried that. The Box won't go back d_ _own with someone in it.”_

_“Okay, what if we…”_

_“No, we tried it, all right? Twice. All right? Trust me. Anything you think of, we've already tried. The only way out of here is through the maze.”_

“He should get the fertiliser.”

“Huh?” Newt turned his head to look at Zart. Zart wiped his dirty hands on the thin blue trousers he wore.

“He should - he should get the fertiliser.”

“Um, alright.” Newt said, reluctant. He picked up the bucket and tossed it to Thomas, who caught it with ease, no stagger involved. “South side of the woods, I think.” Newt trailed off. “Yeah…”

“Which way is south?” Thomas asked; there was no way he could know this.

“Just - around the-“

Zart lowered his voice, warily looked at Thomas and whispered to Newt. “What are you doing? You’ve been acting strange all day. Is it the Greenie?”

Newts eyes flicked over to Thomas and he rubbed his forehead. Thomas stood there, awkwardly.

“Yeah, no, it’s something else I - I have a bad feeling. Forget it.”

“I’ll just go then…I guess…” Thomas mumbled, and he stumbled a little. Ben had been stung - when? He had never been quite sure of when Ben had been stung, he only knew that this was when he would be attacked.

The forest was eerily dead.

No birds chirped, no foxes prowled. You could only hear the trickling of the streams in the distance and the yells of the Gladers in the far-off distance.

And the human-like padding.

“ _Shit-“_ Thomas cursed. This was Ben, wasn’t it?

“Tommy!”

Thomas swiftly turned around to see Newt standing there, light reflecting off of his hair like he was wearing a halo of sheer golden light, shovel at his side. “I haven’t collected anything yet-“

Newt said, firm and strict, authority reeking off of him. “Never mind that. Leave the bucket. I’ve thought of something else for you to do.” He grasped Thomas’ shoulder. “By the river…”

Thomas, relieved (very much so, for countering Ben was no enjoyable experience) and elated followed Newt, the skip in his step closer than ever before.Newt was still talking of some water bottle filling job that surely he had not been told to do, but he had, and thank the heavens he had.

Caught up in giddiness, because reliving the experience was not on his to-do list, he almost missed the sight of a blonde boy at the edge of the clearing. Somebody he knew. And somebody he feared to see, and knew he was going to see that day.

Ben.

“What the _fuck_ -“ Thomas yanked on Newt’s shirt. “ _-am_ I _seeing-_ “

There was a wild look in Ben’s eyes, something that occasionally haunted his dreams. The utterly crazy, mad, pure _angriness_ that resided in the once shining blue was only something of nightmares, and their lives. That stuff was fucking scary. And shit, traumatic too.

“I _saw_ you!” Ben screamed, scrambling towards them in a desperate attempt to do some sort of harm to Thomas - _any_ harm. “I _saw you!!!_ ”

Newt swore (he barely did that, Thomas thought) and pulled Thomas to the side, and he tripped over a branch, and shit, he wanted to do something. He wanted to save Newt, he didn’t want Newt to be the one saving himself again, because it was always _Newt_ who picked Newt back up again. It was always _Newt_ who had cared for him, and cared for him emotionally, too, because after Thomas said he was fine physically, the worrying group of people would leave. _Newt_ was there for him. And now, he was there for him yet _again_ _and again and again._

And while Thomas was lying on the ground, helpless, Newt did what he did before.

Saved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this one! did this at like 11am. thanks for 85 kudos! I have like huge writer's block, so this was kinda hard. only 600 words cus this is ch.8 p.2. ch.9 will be 1,000 words, lmao, don't worry.  
> -anaauthor


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